The sun dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of orange and purple, the last remnants of daylight giving way to the oppressive darkness that was descending. As night fell over Washington D.C., the enemy forces crept closer. The air was thick with anticipation, each soldier clutching their weapon, eyes trained on the horizon where shadows moved.
George, stationed on the stone wall with his Dagger Unit, kept his eyes forward, scanning the field. The figures that had been mere specks in the distance were now growing larger, more distinct. What they saw filled the soldiers with a growing dread.
"It's starting," Raven muttered beside him, her hand tightening around her katana.
"Yep," Lucy agreed, loading her shotgun with steady hands. "And by the looks of it, we're about to be neck-deep in undead freaks."
